24 July 2006

Get along l'il dogie, before I brand yore hide. . .

Tattoos.

Branding Humans.

A relative of mine is obsessed with tattoos, body piercings, and the people who make it all possible. I don't share her devotion to stained epidermis. Something about the process just irks me. . .sort of like Big Macs and dead worms on the sidewalk after a rainstorm irritates me.

I'm not saying its wrong-just a trivial foolish,child-like, and somewhat de-humanizing. I picture in my mind's eye a plot hatched by higher order beings to mock and dehumanize humans by branding them with ink. . .like a herd of cows. It's as if these higher order entities have some sort of vendetta against us because we remind them of somebody who they will never be like. Like apes defacing a statue of Michaelangelo's David.

I've noticed alot of people trying to fit in with the dominant culture by tattooing barbed-wire and other ring-like designs around their upper arms. Like it's a necessity to be accepted into a universal society of clowns. Are clones really happy? Are clowns really happy? Once upon a time I was cussed out by a clown-so apparently not.)

Many tattooed guys like to shave off all their body hair, get tanned, and mutilate themselves. What blows me away is that some women find this attractive. What they look like is a lizard. A gecko. They've fallen in love with a G-E-C-K-O.

"But he's sooo maaannllyyyy. . .He looks like He-man."

"No, he's not. He's a Gila monster. He's got no hair, dark skin, and blue splotches all over his body. He sits in the sun all day sweating and drinking beer. Yep. Lizard comes to mind."